Scour
by Cyrelia J
Summary: This is a character study of Austria with Austria/Prussia thrown in the background of a sort. Austria is desperate to not be seen as plain and finds his sacred morning ritual unforgivably interrupted. Warning for some very small sexual content at the end and extreme body/self esteem issues possible OOC. Off the cuff unedited writing exercise.


Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia or any of its characters. I'm also not making any money off of this.

The bathroom door is locked at 8 am. Germany finished his morning toiletry at 6 sharp. Prussia finished next. Austria had watched from the crack in the door at the other end of the hallway until he counted the paces ten away towards the kitchen. He takes a deep breath and shakes out his wet hair before putting the glasses back on his face. He takes them off again. He blinks. He looks at himself clearly without the shield of the frames covering his face. Austria frowns and looks down at the thin wire frames in hand turning them over. There's a slight bend of the left arm where they'd been knocked to the floor at the last world conference. According to Prussia he'd run straight into Canada knocking them both to the floor. Austria had never caught a glimpse with his own eyes but Prussia swore that Canada had mumbled apologies before being half run over by his own brother. I never saw him. For all you say he was there but... 'Yeah doesn't exactly stand out, does he?'

Austria's hands shake as he remembers that short terribly forgettable conversation. I never want to be like that. He puts the glasses on with a tightly pursed mouth continuing to stare at himself. Mariazell sticks out as if it too is afraid of being overlooked. I couldn't bear that. Austria takes the small glass jar from the sink and twists it open, the faint smell of beeswax making him sigh.

"You'd say this was just another 'girly' indulgence, wouldn't you?" He swirls his finger around the slightly hard wax until it warms over his finger with a slight gloss. "But they'd never forget you, would they? How could anyone forget-"

He jumps at the bang at the door, heart jumping up as he looks to the small timepiece on the sink. It's not time. Austria looks at the door, brows knit torn between fury and fear. It's too soon. It's nowhere near-

"Hey, princess, you gonna be in there all 'cause that tasteless cardboard shit West made me eat this morning is-"

"Can't it wait?!" His voice is raised more than he would like but his clothes are in his room so the moisture from the shower doesn't... I'm not ready yet... It's too early and Gilbert has no right to knock on the door when he has fifteen more minutes... when I have fifteen damn more minutes to-

"You gonna do my laundry? I don't think you'd touch my... what'd you call them my 'unmentionables' with a ten foot pole on a good day so you better wrap this shit up, yeah?"

Austria swallows, closes his eyes and rubs the wax over his lips with violent quickness. He can see the cracks in his vision like a broken glass his finger scrubbing a copper pot until his mouth is red and he nearly drops the small container when he hits the mole. He tugs the thick strap of the tank top back over his shoulder, too thin, Prussia would say, too bony, too unremarkable and plain. His hand stops short, head dropping to stare at the shine of the porcelain sink as the banging continues. Shuttup. Shuttup, damn you why can't you just...

"I'm almost done you... you... can't you..." He sucks in a breath staring at his hand- fair but nowhere near the white porcelain of the sink, of the Dresden dolls dotting the mantle. "Can't you give me just another minute to..." To be a little less ordinary... to be someone who matters... who isn't so...

The strap slides off again and he isn't sure if Prussia hears something in his voice but there's a pause and a grumble but there's most importantly acquiescence. Austria looks at the towels, the water on the floor with nothing more than a fleeting glance. He spends the next forty four seconds pressing the back of his hand to his mouth to dull the angry abused pink of his skin. Austria tries to remember to breathe as his bare damp feet move him to the locked door. He turns the lock, bracing himself against Prussia barging in knowing his weight won't hold it for more than a moment but it will be-

Austria winces as the door hits his shoulder and Prussia swears at him.

"Christ, You're worse than I fucking woman are you gonna-"

"Turn around." Austria holds the door with far more strength than he thought he possessed and he ignores every protest of his insanity both inside his mind and outside the door. "Please just..." Don't look at me. Not yet. You can't look at me like this. I'm not ready for you to look at me.

"Fine fine... things a guy does to take a fucking shit around here..." Austria stops leaning against the door and opens it slowly, confirming that Prussia's back is to him as he steps out. His hand grips the door with white knuckles, the other still holding the small jar carefully concealed. He can't stop the shake of his shoulders and he tells himself it has to be the cold air of the hallway.

Prussia doesn't turn around as he takes another few careful steps. Prussia doesn't turn when Austria circles him to walk back to his room. He remains with every step in sync, back to Austria, strangely silent. Austria feels his shoulders barely relax, his eyes watching for Germany as he begins to take backwards steps to the door.

"You'll need to pick up the towels..." His eyes dart to the floor. "And the water. There's water so don't be a clumsy fool and slip because I don't want..." Austria swallows and stares hard at Prussia's back. Prussia snorts and waves him away.

"Yeah, yeah, no one interrupts his highness in the bathroom, get lost already, four eyes, no one wants to see your skinny ass anyway." Austria stops, tucking damp hair behind one ear, the side of his mouth crooking up slightly. The floor wavers as his eyes look down once more. He stops and stares at his knees beneath the shorts he wears that seem all of a sudden far too boney. Of course... you're right... who would want to... no one wants to... He laughs softly turning around as his mouth twists and curls in a manner that has to be terribly unattractive.

"I certainly wouldn't want you turning your lecherous eyes this way anyway."

The words are a near whisper but steady, haughty, perfect. Austria almost cannot believe they come from him. He forces his shoulders back as he finishes the last few feet to his room. He doesn't see Prussia, hand lingering on the doorway defy that order at the last moment to fix his retreating form with an intensity bordering on madness. He doesn't know that Prussia brings a discarded towel to his face and breathes in deeply the smell of flowery shampoo and he doesn't hear most damning of all the soft swearing grunts as Prussia spills his seed five frantic minutes later into the same discarded linen.


End file.
